“She’s—?”
“Luca, dammit, I needed that job.” We’d talked about this before I left for Boston. Mom’s online jewelry shop and occasional waitressing jobs are spotty at best. She still gets survivor benefits from the military every month, but it’s not enough. She has a little from my dad’s personal life insurance too, but again it barely covers our food, much less my lessons with Mr. Wheeler, my piano instructor. Consequently, I’ve had some sort of job since my age hit double digits.
“Claws in, cat,” Luca says. “You know you’ve always got a job here if you want it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. You’re golden. Just hide your tips in a safe place, if you catch my drift.”
“Do I ever miss your drift?”
He grunts acknowledgment, knowing he’s got a point. Mom’s been known to . . . borrow from me, rooting through my room in whatever dump we’re living in until she finds a twenty or two. Sometimes it goes toward a phone bill, a meal. Sometimes it doesn’t.
“Besides,” he says as I pull a loose piece of wicker off my bike’s basket, “it’s Eva.”
“Who’s Eva?”
He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Eva Brighton? She’s my mom’s friend’s daughter. Remember?”
My stomach plummets to my feet. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry, I totally forgot.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. God, I suck, Luca.”
“Stop. You have a few things on your mind.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me, but dammit. Hurricane Maggie strikes again, obliterating everything in my life but her. About a month ago, Emmy’s childhood friend Dani Brighton, who lived in Brooklyn with her daughter, died suddenly. She taught ballet at a fancy company in the city, and during a practice, her appendix ruptured. After surgery, everything seemed fine, but then she got some infection they couldn’t get under control. She died a week later. Emmy was devastated. Still is, I would assume. Plus, she not only lost her friend; she gained a daughter. Emmy and Dani only talked sporadically over the past several years, so when a lawyer contacted her and reminded her that she’d agreed to be Eva’s guardian years before, Emmy was thrown for a major loop.
“Dani never got married,” Luca told me when it first happened. We were at LuMac’s sharing a plate of pizza fries while Luca pretended to roll silverware.
“Did they contact Eva’s dad, though?” I asked.
He broke a long string of cheese and wound it into his mouth. “Can’t really contact a guy whose name you don’t know.”
“Oh.”
“Actually, I think Eva knows his name, but there’s nothing to legally bind them. The only thing on her birth certificate is ‘father unknown.’”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Right before I left for Boston, the Michaelsons launched into full panic mode getting ready for Eva to come, transforming what was once Macon’s bedroom-turned-storage room into an inhabitable bedroom. Emmy was a total mess, reading through her old self-help books on grief and mourning and healing. It made Luca nervous as hell. Since their dad left, he and his older brother, Macon, have been super protective of Emmy.
And, of course, I forgot all about this huge change in my best friend’s life, because I’m me.
“How’s it going with Eva?” I ask now. “Is she . . . okay?”
“Hard to tell. She just got here last week, but so far she’s pretty quiet. Stays in her room mostly.”
“Weird. You, like, have a sister. Sort of.”
“You’re my sister. And Eva’s kind of hot, which makes drumming up any sisterly feelings really hard.”
“What the hell? Are you saying I’m not hot, Luca?” I ask, a teasing lilt to my voice.
“Gross.”
I smile and walk the bike around the side of the garage before flipping out the kickstand. I look back toward the house, torn between wanting to go back inside and fix this mess with Mom—?if it’s even fixable—?and needing to get as far away as possible.
“So I can come over when my shift’s done?” Luca asks.
“You don’t have to. Mom wants a ‘family dinner,’ god help us all.”
“With Jay Lanier?”
“Will you stop saying his name?”
“He’s your roommate.”
“I swear to god, Luca Michaelson, if you laugh right now, I will shave your head with a cheese grater while you sleep.”
Luca gasps dramatically, and I can picture him clutching his beloved locks. “Look, Gray, I know this sucks. Just let me come over. Your mom loves me—?”
“Mom loves anyone with a generous helping of testosterone.”
“—?and I’ll bring pizza fries and Cherry Coke.”
I sigh into the phone. Normally, I wouldn’t let even Luca near one of our residences right after Mom and I crash into it, especially with a Pete involved. But this time, there’s a Jay thrown in for good measure, and I’d be lying if I said the thought of him existing a few feet from my bed didn’t make me want to curl into an itty-bitty ball. But really, it’s not only Jay. Jay is a minor annoyance. Jay is the growl of a much larger beast.
“Okay, but if it gets too weird, you can leave at any time,” I say.
“Right.”
“Hey, set me up with pizza fries and a Cherry Coke, and I don’t really care if I ever see you again.”
He laughs. “You couldn’t live without me, Grace. You know it.”
I laugh back and hang up, although he’s sort of right on that one. I know a lot of people on this godforsaken waste of space and a lot of people know me.
But no one really knows me.
For a while I was pretty much a sugar-and-spice kind of girl. I’ve had a handful of friends here and there, but with the ebb and flow of my existence, it was easier to keep my world as small as possible. Less explaining. Less lying to cover up why I’d moved again. Less worrying about what totally messed-up situation I’d encounter when I brought a friend home. Sure, Mom’s not always a mess. She has her good days. Good months, even. I just never know when a good day is going to turn to total crap.
Chapter Five
I SHOULDER MY BAG AND HEAD TOWARD THE SHORT walkway that leads down to the beach. It’s low tide and naked rocks pebble the sand on either side of me, the ocean spitting and spinning just ahead. The water is almost the exact same shade of blue as the sky, the two pressing together like a kiss. I kick off my flip-flops, leaving them near the dunes, and start walking.